Yes, why not? But also, why?
He turned to his right and pulled something out of a small, white paper bag
sitting on the window ledge. “I brought you a present.” He held it out in the palm of his hand.
It was a snow globe.
The gold etching on the base said “Welcome to Golden Grove.” Tiny brick
houses in a row on a brick-lined street, miniature and picture perfect. And instead of snow, orange and yellow leaves swirled in the sunlight reflected through the window. He probably had picked it up at Bailey's; they had dozens
there for tourists.
She shook it. The leaves spun like a miniature tornado. If she'd had time for
metaphors, she would have called it her heart, but, oh, please.
“Thanks,” she said, looking up.
He smiled, and it felt like sunlight. Steady.
“Just a little reminder,” he said. “Someday, when it's gray and dark outside,
or you're feeling down, maybe it will remind you of another place.”
Sentiment? From Peter? That was almost as surprising as him standing here
in her office.
She put the trinket on the window sill. “So, why are you here, really?”
He nodded, hands up. “Sorry, yes. I should have said earlier. I was up in Highland Park. At the Dixon School.”
More heart thumping. He did the interview? “You did the interview?”
“More of an interrogation, really.”
“So, how did it go?”
He shrugged. “Pretty well, I guess.”
Pretty well in Peter-speak usually meant very well.
“So…are you still in the running for the job?”
“I suppose so. I'm sure there will be a lot of other applicants. It's a pretty prestigious school.”
“You suppose so? We need to work on your self-promotion skills.”
He shrugged, some of the light leaving the room.
Kate touched his arm. “Okay, I'm sorry. I guess…I'm not meaning to push you.”
The smile returned. “No problem.”
“Nice office,” he said, nodding.
“Thanks. Not sure if I deserve it though.”
“Really? Now who needs work on their self-promotion skills?” He crossed
his arms. “Why do you say that?”
She shrugged. “No reason, really.” Then she traced some dust from the
windowsill. “I used to do more actual design work. When I started. Now it's like
half my job is meetings.” Why was she telling him this?
He nodded. “Meetings. Tell me about it. Had enough of those even today.”
“I never liked doing interviews. All those awkward questions: What is your
biggest weakness? Where do you see yourself in three years? If you could do anything and get paid, what would it be?” She shook her head.
“So, what would it be?” he asked.
“Hmm?” A halo of sun framed his head.
